Endworld Vault
by PR Reload
Summary: Collection of Harry Potter moments as I wish they were. Random pairings. Random unconnected one-shots. Rated M for future safety.
1. Ink Fingers HPCW

**ENDWORLD VAULT**

AN: So my friend MC, suggested a vault for all my random one shots that mostly include Harry Potter with various people. So I finally bent to her suggestion. Don't know how often this will update. Probably just when I get random ideas and write them down.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks.

Warning: Slash, fluff, mild Ginny bash (?)

_**Ink Fingers**_

Charlie entered Harry's private office in the Department of Mysteries. Only to find a very pissed brunette. Harry was cursing vibrantly as his ink bottle had spilled black liquid over his parchment. His hands were coated in a thin layer of the oily black mess. Charlie chuckled softly to himself at the sight. Harry's sharp eyes narrowed on him.

"This is not funny!" He growled. "I've been working on this damn paper for over a month and I've just lost sixteen pages of document!"

"I don't doubt it," Charlie murmured, closing the door softly behind him and approaching the desk. Setting a small present on a stack of parchment far from the ink spill.

"What's with that?" Harry eyed the wrapped box warily.

"Happy anniversary, Love," Charlie grinned, leaning over to kiss Harry's cheek. Harry stilled.

"Really?" Harry murmured softly, staring at him.

"Yep, two full years now," Charlie wouldn't let his mood be affected by Harry's tizzy over spilled ink.

"Charlie, have I ever told you I love you?" Harry's shoulder's relaxed as he rounded his desk to stand in front of his lover.

"Yes, you have," Harry stood on his toes and kissed him roughly, hands cupping Charlie's face and sliding back into his lush ginger hair. Charlie picked him up off the ground, encircling his arms around Harry's small waist and pressing them together. Harry arched against him, legs wrapping around the dragon keeper's hips. When they broke apart Harry's mouth hung open for a moment before laughter bubbled out of his throat.

"What?" Charlie looked at Harry curiously.

"I – The – The ink..." Harry gasped between riotous laughs, "You're face!" He finally squeaked.

"Harry," Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Hands?"

Harry raised his fingers and wiggled them in front of Charlie. The once slick ink was now rubbed into the lines of his palm. Rubbed off against Charlie's face. He shook his head with a chuckle. A perfect way to start their anniversary evening. Charlie swiped a finger in the ink still pooled on Harry's desk and drew a quick heart on his lover's cheek, kissing the Unspeakable's lips once more.

"I love you," Harry sighed, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Charlie's neck.

"I love you too," Charlie smiled, "We'd better get moving though. Mum's got dinner waiting at home."

"Oh, crud, I forgot!" Harry dropped from Charlie's embrace and scrambled to get his work for the weekend. He banished the inky mess on his desk and sighed when his corrupted papers were actually salvageable.

When the two arrived on the steps of the Burrow a fuss was made about the ink on their faces.

"It's all right, mum," Charlie grinned, his hand intertwining with Harry's, "We're celebrating our Anniversary,"

If any one noticed Ginny's smile crumble or the tears that slid down her cheeks at the announcement, no one commented. Harry was too in love to notice, and Charlie was too happy.


	2. Eternus Fidelitas HPSB

**ENDWORLD VAULT**

AN: Second installment! No one has suggested anything yet for pairing or scenarios so I wrote this on my own fanatical whim. I love HarrySirius pairings, their so hard to come by. But this is my brief one shot. I like this though, so I may decide to make it longer. Idk.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks.

Warning: Slash, fluff, brief suicide, AU, time travel, mpreg mention,

_**Eternus Fidelitas**_

Harry blinked. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. He was standing before the Veil dressed in his casual jeans and sweater. It had been weeks since the battle. The rubble was still scattered from the fight, but Harry wasn't concerned about the destroyed Ministry. He was focused on Sirius. The man had...he had been different in the last few weeks Harry had known him. And maybe Harry was reading too much, but he wanted that back. He wanted the faint, barely there touches. The caring, tender grey eyes. He wanted to smooth the concerned and lonely wrinkles from his godfather's face. He wanted Sirius back.

Harry took a step forward, and before he could think any further he continued walking until his body fell to the floor and he was no longer in it.

Harry was staring down at the mail in his hands. The thick envelope with the red wax seal. He didn't understand why he had been sent back. Why he had 'woken up' as an eleven year old. He grabbed the envelope and slid it through the slit in his cupboard's door. The Dursley's never knew he received the letter until the day Hagrid came to collect him for his shopping.

Harry let events flow as they had his first time around, though he made sure to gather more advanced books to continue from his fifth year curriculum. He avoided making snide comments to Malfoy, instead he merely accepted the boy's nervous but friendly (he was a sheltered eleven year old with no friends, he was trying at least) words of advice and decided to befriend the Slytherin. He was tired of their petty arguments.

First year was strange. He had been sorted into Ravenclaw, being more serious about his studies now and actively learning more than his classes required. And then, in the midst of planning his confrontation with Quirrel at breakfast in early October, he received a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_You may not have heard of me, though anything you have heard is most likely a ghastly lie as I am not a Death Eater or a mass-murderer, but I was a dear friend of your parents. I am also your godfather, and I hope that by introducing myself now I will spare you the confrontation with the dementors._

_Here's hoping,_

_Sirius Black_

Harry was elated, though surprised as Sirius hadn't broken out until his third year. But mainly he was just elated. He couldn't exchange letters with the man, but he was happy to know that Sirius was still here.

It took his almost two and a half years before they finally met. Remus had come to help Sirius find Pettigrew and Harry was willing to help, though he had to go about 'learning' the information again.

Harry stopped to listen in the passage beneath the Womping Willow, hearing the confrontation with an overly curious Ron, whom he had followed. Harry slid into the room in time to stun Pettigrew and halt the confrontation with Snape. He stopped breathing when Sirius' gaze met his, and he _knew_ that he could never let the man suffer again. He explained the events to Snape in a calm manner and offered Pettigrew's future verituserum trial as proof. It took months for everything to be sorted. The Ministry allotted Sirius immense reconciliation for their misdeed and Harry was permanently removed from the Dursleys before April even began.

Harry stood proudly with the _full_ class of Seventh year students on their graduation day. Beaming with pride as he accepted his N.E.W.T.S. from all fourteen classes he had finished. He was proud to have been Head Boy after his two years as a Prefect and immensely pleased with his current life. He would be eighteen soon, and Harry glanced quickly down to the audience. Smiling at Sirius and Remus who stood there, cheering for him.

Voldemort was gone. Harry had taken care of him quickly after Fourth year, having Remus and Sirius help him locate the other Horcruxes and help him destroy them was reassuring. And then it had barely taken anything to convince Fawxes to rip Nagini to shreds. By the time Fifth year ended and the duel in the belly of the Ministry began, Harry was facing a mortal man who died quickly in the hands of the boy-prodigy. The Ministry, being wrong again, awarded him an Order of Merlin for his trouble and he was left to finish his schooling in relative peace with mild idol worship and press.

After the ceremony Harry said his thank-you's to his friends, though he didn't have many this time around, and quickly flooed home with Sirius, leaving an expecting Remus to his husband's care. Harry still couldn't find himself shocked that Severus Snape was Remus' mate, highly disturbing yes, but not shocking.

He landed abruptly in the fireplace of Number 12 Grimauld Place, strong arms wrapped around him to keep him from falling.

"I'm very proud of you, Harry," Sirius was grinning like a dog.

"It really wasn't very fair, I have four years on them all," Harry replied, smiling up at the man.

"Only up here," Sirius murmured, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"True," Sirius smiled at Harry's admittance.

Harry looked up, enjoying the warm embrace, they didn't often get time alone to be so close. He knew, without a doubt, that he loved Sirius. He had followed Sirius to this place because he was in love with his godfather. But, the feelings...he didn't know if they reciprocated. Yes, Sirius was affectionate, but that could have been the years in Azkaban making Sirius long for a constant reminder that he wasn't alone.

"Harry," The soothing tenor of Sirius' voice pulled Harry from his thoughts.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"I have been waiting to ask you this, for a long time, actually," The man pulled an arm out of their embrace to rummage through his robe pockets. Stepping back slightly Sirius produced a small velvet box from his robes and stared intently down at Harry. "Harry," He opened the box, "Will you marry me?"

Harry stared at the simple silver band set in deep blue satin. He could barely make out the words written inside the band. _**eternus fidelitas. **_Latin; it meant, simply, 'everlasting fidelity'. It was a promise. A vow of never ending love.

Harry's hand shook as he brushed his fingers over the ring, eyes pricking with tears. He snapped the box shut and wrapped his arms around the man's neck. Fiercely catching Sirius' surprised lips in a long desired kiss.

"Yes," he whispered against the man's chapped lips, "Always, yes,"


	3. Break HPBW

**ENDWORLD VAULT**

AN: Third installment! Sorry, my brain just sort of spit this up today, although the idea is less than great (I really hate people who cheat on their spouses/lovers).

Enjoy?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks.

Warning: Slash, slight lemon, angst, implied cheating

_**Break**_

Harry gasped, his elbows buckling as waves of pleasure washed over him. His lover's broad hand wrapped around his cock, sliding deliciously up and down his length. He bucked his hips, panting, wanting the languid pace to speed up.

"Fuck, Bill, please!" Harry finally gasped, he wanted Bill inside him, and he wanted it now!

The deep, lush chuckle that met his pleads vibrated through Harry's body.

"Feisty, feisty Harry," The mans voice murmured against his ear, before Harry was finally flipped to face his older lover. Harry wriggled, needing contact, arching when Bill's fingers prodded his entrance at last. Harry drank in everything that Bill gave him, basked in the perfection of their joining. No one knew how to love him like Bill did, no one compared to the dangerous and slightly feral man. Bill collapsed by his side, panting and sated, pulling out from the younger man beside him after a moment. Harry traced Bill's features with his eyes, memorizing the set of his jaw, the tilt of his once broken nose, the placement of Fenrir's scars. He sat up quietly as Bill's eyelids drooped, waving a hand to clean them both. He went about gathering his muggle clothes.

"Love you, Harry," The wizard laying across the messy bed sighed, Harry turned to look at him again after pulling up his jeans.

He found himself wondering why he couldn't stay, why he was forcing himself to leave Bill's small home. He padded across to kiss the man's forehead before pulling away and donning his shirt. He knew why he couldn't stay, his thoughts broke into another line of thought. _Why do I always come back?_ He sighed and whispered his returned affections before leaving the room and heading towards the floo. Everytime he left Bill he could feel his heart tear a little more. This three year thing might have gone on for too long...

Harry picked up a pinch of powder and disappeared into the green flames.

Fleur would be back from St. Mungo's in an hour, after all. Harry decided to send Bill a private note later on in the evening. Bill would be a father soon, and Harry wouldn't be able to stand himself if he broke that up. Bill had made his choice last year at the wedding, after all.


	4. Madness HPCD

**ENDWORLD VAULT**

AN: Fourth one! Sorry for the long wait on everything. I'm trying to get back into my groove with writing since I've been gone forever.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks.

Warning: light slash, character death, madness, reality bending, AU, DARK!, spy!Harry, crazy!Harry, obsession, denial, a light touch of pedophilia (just hints, nothing really bad), I think that's it...

_**Madness**_

Harry stopped breathing the moment Cedric dropped to the ground. _It wasn't real. It didn't happen._ He repeated over and over in his head. Any minute Cedric would break that stony gaze, lift his eyes and grin. He would laugh and smile and tell him it was all just a joke. To lighten up. To make Harry laugh. But the minute stretched on and on and on and on. Forever.

"Cedric," He finally knelt beside the corpse, ignoring the laughing of Voldemort and the arrival of his followers, he didn't even register that Voldemort had not been there moments ago, or that his arm was bleeding. He didn't even remember being tied up briefly. He touched a shaking hand to the still boy's shoulder, tear beginning to slide down his face.

"Cedric, please," Harry whispered, stifling sobs, "This isn't funny, get up, please, Cedric,"

There was nothing. Not a twitch.

"Cedric!" Harry began to hyperventilate, "Cedric, please, please get up," He shook a little harder. But, then he thought of something. Cedric was a pretty heavy sleeper, and though he'd never really seen Cedric sleep, perhaps Cedric slept with his eyes open, that must be it. _Of course_.

Harry pulled the boy's limp arm up and slipped into the heavy embrace, snuggling into the familiar arms he'd come to love. He hugged the sleeping boy to him and murmured to himself, reassurances that everything would be okay and that they would be together, and not to worry, because everything was just _fine_. He slipped into a light _heavy_ sleep tossing fitfully _dreaming peacefully_ and woke to a cold, empty room. _Alone_.

Harry panicked.

"Cedric, Cedric, where are you, please. Come back! Come back, I need you, where did you go?" No one answered. No one came. Harry stared blankly at the wall across from his bed and rocked himself, curled inward, insecure without Cedric.

_He_ came several days later, and laughed so hard when _He_ was informed of Harry's condition. They'd done a scan. It seemed they thought he was off his rocker. But, Harry didn't listen. He was completely and utterly _fine_. He just needed Cedric. If Cedric were there he'd show them just how fine he was, but Cedric was missing, missing, missed, _gone_. After awhile it seemed like they came to a decision regarding Harry, and _He _offered Harry a deal. Work for _Him_ and at the end of his duties, _He_ would give Cedric back to Harry.

For the first time in days, weeks, Harry looked at _Him_ and then...he smiled.

He'd do anything for Cedric.

When Harry got back to the school he played his part very well, if he failed he wouldn't get Cedric, they'd kill Cedric and Harry would be left alone. So Harry did his best. He gave Dumbledore answers, but never looked him directly in the eye, always the nose or brows. He mourned the disappearance of Cedric like a good fellow student. He finished his final papers and end of term projects. And then he went home to Privet Drive and ignored the world, dreaming of when he would see Cedric again.

He never received mail, which he found odd, but couldn't bring himself to care too much about. He didn't have much to send Hedwig in to report on, so he simply didn't. And then, one night, he was moved rather suddenly.

Now a days he had so much to report on, so, so much. He listened quietly like he was supposed to for the information requested and sent it all to _Him_ with anything that could possibly help or be useful.

When fifth year started he reported everything new that happened around him, under the guise of keeping in touch with Dudley Dursley as they had 'become close this summer'. He watched and waited and reported and kept doing so, even when the dreams came through and then started occlumency. He stopped reporting the dreams when _He_ told him to. If he continued, Harry would ruin _His _plans and never see Cedric.

So Harry stopped reporting the dreams. He ignored all visions of _His _plans and Snape stopped sending for lessons at _His _request.

Sixth year was more of the same. Everything was similar. Until Spring. And then, _He_ put his plans into action, and took the Wizarding world by force. The night was smeared in blood, and after a summer of secret training, mailed to him by owl from the Lestrange's, Harry joined the frenzy with a twisted smile on his face. All that stood between him and Cedric fell that night, he would finally have him back.

He'd do anything for Cedric.

Even murder.

Harry stood before _Him_ drenched in blood and a thin sheen of sweat, smiling with a twisted laugh half way in his throat. It was the end. He was free! He would finally have his Cedric back.

"My Lord, My Lord," Harry stood before _Him_, "Please, Cedric, please, I finished," Harry begged hungrily. He had waited, he had watched, he had _murdered _and now was his reward. _He_ smiled cruelly down at Harry, who perked up in hope, that look was so pleasantly familiar.

"Reconsider, Harry, my little puppet," _He _offered, approaching to place a cold, bony hand on Harry's head, "I could give you anything for the help you've given us, after all, your spying helped us most of all,"

"Cedric, please, my Cedric," Harry leaned into the cool hand above his head.

"Of course, of course," _He _smiled and lent down. "You will be with your precious Cedric soon."

"Cedric," Harry smiled up at _Him_, calm, hopeful, longing.

He bent closer and whispered two little words into Harry's ear.

And the smile never left his face.


	5. To Have and To Hold HPTRJHPV

**ENDWORLD VAULT**

AN: Just something that sparked my interest after seeing this picture (http :/ flayu. Deviantart. Com /#/ d46r6x3 ){take out spaces}. Also, sparked from 'An Idle Mind is the Devil's Playground' by night flame miko.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks.

Warning: mentions of past neglect, conspiracy to murder, AU, crack?

_**To Have and To Hold**_

Harry glanced up from his book at the solid, yet quiet knock. Setting the book on the coffee table, he stood to answer it, knowing of only three people who ever visited him.

"Yes?" Harry peered around the oak door to meet Lucius' molten silver gaze. "Oh, good afternoon, Lucius,"

"Indeed," The blond nodded slightly before stepping slightly away from the door. "The Dark Lord has called for your company,"

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded, turning only once to check his appearance before leaving the confines of his room.

It had been odd, at first, becoming a willing, life-time guest of his once arch-enemy. Not that many ever thought it a viable outcome nearly three months ago. No, it had all started because of a few, stupid meetings after his fifth year. The summer when Harry was forced to remain in solitude in his little prison at the Dursley's. Letters to Ron and Hermione were forbidden, as were letters to any of his 'friends', but Harry needed someone to talk to. It just hadn't been the way he thought it would.

He'd ended up in Voldemort's repaired mind-scape one evening after passing out from hunger. After exploring a little, he'd run across the man himself. A fully revived, twenty year old Tom Riddle Jr.

Their conversations had uncharacteristically changed from semi-abusive to comforting within the first meeting as Harry's mental scars were quite visible on his 'mental image'. When Harry had finally wound up in 'The Study', as he'd nicknamed it, on purpose, he'd come with a small toddler. He wasn't quite sure where it had come from, but knew instinctively that it was part of Voldemort, and also a part of him. That had set off a lot of questions and research sessions until Tom had finally come up with an answer. Horcrux. Harry was a Horcrux.

After several debates, Harry finally conceded to being 'abducted' and taken to Voldemort's new hide out where he would be safe with the Dark Lord and Nagini. And the only reason he agreed is because Voldemort was certain that Dumbledore knew or at the least suspected that Harry was a horcrux, and therefore, planned to kill him eventually.

Harry followed Lucius into the dinning hall and sat on the Dark Lord's left side after a softly murmured 'good afternoon'. Other than the brief tempers, that always quelled when Tom realized Harry was in pain, life within the Dark Lord's lair was actually rather nice. He was fed regularly, he was cared for, and he was treated with respect. Harry sometimes wondered if he should have taken up Tom's offer when he was eleven. Maybe he would have been happier...


	6. Wait HPTRV

AN:2.6.13: Moving this to the Endworld Vault.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Voldemort, character death, slash, chan?

Wait

Harry is eleven when he first sees the man. He stand behind an older reflection of Harry. Strong arms wrapping around him snuggly and pulling him into a tender kiss.

Harry sees him again in second year, when Tom Marvolo Riddle's diary shows him his memory of the Heir of Slytherin. He now has a name to go with the face. And he knows that if Tom really loves him he wouldn't lie. He doesn't continue to investigate the chamber, even after Ginny Weasley gets taken. Tom knows what he's doing.

Harry doesn't see Tom in his third year, it's relatively quiet, except for the escape of Sirius Black, who turns out to be his godfather. And innocent. Harry still doesn't really trust him, after all, Black left him to rot with muggles for four days before being incarcerated.

Harry sees Tom again at the end of fourth year. After being transported to a graveyard where Voldemort returns and then merges with Tom. Tom is the Dark Lord, and still Harry asks to join him.

In fifth year, Harry realizes that he has a much more intimate connection to Tom, they share thoughts sometimes. Apparently, Voldemort is looking for a prophecy. Harry just assures him that Dumbledore won't take action if they're stealthy and ignores the death of Mr. Weasley. He hasn't spoken to Weasley since third year.

In sixth year Dumbledore tells him terrible things about Tom. Still under the impression that Harry is on his side. Horrible things, ending in the theft of one of Tom's horcruxes. When Dumbledore finally falls to his death, Harry hands the locket over to Rosier, who will take it to their Lord.

Harry's seventh year is quiet as no one else knows about the horcruxes and therefore doesn't bother to search for them. Tom makes progress in the ministry and the Wizengamot. Enacting new laws and abolishing a few out dated ones. The Order of the Phoenix runs ragged trying to stop him. Harry just focusses on his school work until Voldemort launches his final assault on the castle.

Harry 'bravely' goes out to 'face' Tom alone. In a secluded glade in the Forbidden Forest, Tom shows him the full prophecy.

_'…And neither can live while the other survives…'_

…and yet, Harry cannot live without Tom. Making a choice, Harry steps towards the man, who's wand is raised to start a duel. He cups Tom's hand and points the wand firmly at his heart. Taking a moment to steady himself before looking up at Tom.

"So strike me through the heart, my love, for I cannot live without you," He says with a smile as Tom leans forward to kiss him one last time.

And then everything is dark.

Harry wakes up on a busy platform, laying across a bench. When he sits up he notices a red-skinned child cowering beneath his seat. Picking it up, he notices the aura of death around it and smiles. This must be the piece of his lover that was hidden in his scar.

"Hush, little one," He comes to the child he rocks gently in his arms, "We shall wait for your other pieces here,"

It is a long wait, but Harry does not mind. Tom will always be worth it.


	7. Love Lines HPSS

AN:2.6.13: Moving this into the Endworld Vault.

**Love Lines**

AN: Hey everyone, I know you're probably waiting for an update with my other work. And I am trying. But, this cute one shot got caught in my brain last night and wouldn't leave until it was written.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: Slash, au, slight ooc!Snape, implied sex, alcohol abuse, implied underage drinking, implied illegal teacher-student relationship

o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o

Harry lazed sullenly on the battered couch in the parlor, his Hufflepuff sweater hanging, disheveled, over his waist. Everyone from the Order was gone for the day. All except him. Due to the incidents at the end of his fifth year he was not allowed out of Grimauld place for the summer. He picked up the bottle in his hand. Before he'd been transported to the headquarter of the Order he'd escaped Privet Drive for an afternoon and illegally bought over a hundred pounds worth of muggle liquor. It stung, and tasted funny. But it let his mind wander without dredging up his emotions. It was strange to learn that he was an apathetic drunk.

He didn't cry when he thought of Sirius or even Umbridge's punishments. He forgot about his responsibilities to the DA and he didn't care. This was his second bottle of gin this morning, and it was barely eleven. He stared at the liquid pooled at the bottom of the glass and swirled it as he thought. They were worried about him. He didn't understand why. He was perfectly fine. Sirius would find a way back eventually. He had to. He'd broken out of Azkaban to get to him, he could get out of the Veil too. His eyes flickered over to the fireplace when a gust of air hit his face. The flames flickered up before dying. And a familiar face stepped out of the shadows.

Harry observed the sooty black robes with little interest. The long hair with its oily shine from days spent with cauldrons and potions. Dark eyes set under thick brows on a sharp face. They traced the hooked nose that fit his features in a strangely handsome way. The signs of stress, fatigue and worry carved in delicate, shallow lines across his brow and around his full lips. The same lips that curled into a slight sneer at the sight of him.

"Potter," Snape acknowledged.

"Professor S-snape," Harry slurred slightly, closing his eyes lightly and leaning his head back against the worn fabric backing.

"Where's Dumbledore?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged.

"You're drinking," Harry could hear the curve of the single raised brow in that question posed as a statement.

"Yep," He popped the 'P' with a smirk and looked back at his teacher. Snape had pulled up the old purple velvet chair with the high back so they were almost a foot from each other. Those dark eyes scrutinizing Harry's features. He wondered for a moment if he looked like hell, but he really didn't care.

"Since when,"

"'bout a week," Harry's smirk turned to a grin. "I've got nothing to do in this damn hole," The last was said with a scowl.

"You're homework,"

"Finished that," Harry grumbled. "Read through my books, finished my papers, bottled my potions. Memorized every sign from tea leaves to stars. Now I'm bored out of my flipping mind – Hey! Can I read your palms? Trelawney taught us all the basics and stuff before summer break and I finished learning with the books in the Black family library. Can I try?" Luna would be proud of him for taking such an interest in Divination at last.

"What of your own, Mr. Potter,"

"I already read mine," Harry waved off the question, sitting up and dumping the bottle of gin on the floor. "I'm supposed to meet my soul mate sometime this year, run into more trouble, suffer heart ache, then either die or live a long happy life." Snape didn't reply.

Harry grabbed his hands, admiring the long fingers and smooth skin before examining the lines. He traced the life line with his finger, running over every crease and branch. Smiling at the familiar signs and scowling at the more difficult ones.

"You're supposed to meet your soul mate in your late thirties, hmm that's about now huh?" Harry glanced up at the man who watched him with a raised brow and an icy gaze, "Your life was difficult as a child and a teen, but got better in your early adult years. There's a line here for grief and regret," Harry ran his finger over the line, "Your life line is good, it gets thin around here," He touched the spot where it almost seemed to snap, "But you'll live a long life. And if I count correctly you'll have three children."

"Impressive, Mr. Potter," Snape went to pull his hands away.

"You know when we're out of classes, you can just call me Harry," He kept a light grip on his teachers thin fingers.

"That would be inappropriate," The man said at length.

"Not really," Harry was staring at their hands. Delighting in the contrast of reclusive pallor versus his sun kissed tan. A thought raced through his half hazed mind, beginning to feel the effects of the liquor. He bent over and kissed the palm of Snape's hand. His skin tingling at the contact.

"Mr. Pot –"

"Harry," He interrupted, staring insistently into the man's dark eyes. Wondering how lost he could get in that gaze. He scoot forwards, brushing his knees against the man's, keeping Snape's hands trapped in his own.

"I believe you are drunk," The potion master began to stand, Harry rising with him.

"I don't care, I want –" Harry paused; he'd never been allowed to want things. Snape must have noticed as he sighed.

"What do you want_, Harry_?"

"Love," Harry muttered, looking away from the man to stare at the embroidered wall. "I just want to be loved,"

"Don't we all," The statement was shockingly cold. Harry hadn't known what to expect but, had hoped for sympathy. He squeezed the man's hands and shuddered lightly. His eyes filling with tears he thought disappeared.

"Harry," Snape seemed alarmed by the tears, he sighed and pulled his hands away silently. He hated James, and he'd thought James' son would be exactly like him. But, Harry was so different, so gentle and forgiving. Strong under all the pressure and trials they'd pushed him to. The sight of those tears, from Lily's green eyes, made his heart ache. He wrapped an arm around the teen, putting the other on top of messy raven hair.

Harry curled into the hug, shoulders shaking. Sirius was gone. Gone, gone, gone, _gone_. And there was nothing he could do to bring him back. And he couldn't talk to Luna who was helping her father during vacation. He clung to the potions master he never thought would try to comfort him and shook until he was empty. He stayed close to the man breathing in the scent of fire and wood smoke. He would never admit that was the smell he loved most; it was also why he tolerated potions even if he sucked at it. He sighed and relaxed into the hold as Snape's hand ran through his hair, disentangling knots as it went.

"Thank you Professor," Harry pulled away reluctantly.

"Severus," The man replied briskly.

"Prof –"

"If I'm supposed to call you Harry, you will call me Severus, out of classes," The man stared at him down his nose.

"Of course, Severus," Harry smiled shyly.

Severus stayed for a few more minutes, banishing the remains of Harry's liquor store with Harry's sulky assurance that he would quit drinking. Then he left to find Dumbledore for whatever report he had to give.

When he returned to school with Luna, Fred and George he found himself searching the teacher's tables for those dark eyes he missed. When he found Severus he waited to catch his eye and smiled. Harry was surprised but also rather happy when Dumbledore announced Snape's move from Potions master to Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. He planned to congratulate Severus before his Defense class the next afternoon. But, due to Luna's admiration of the grounds outside her common room window, he was almost late to class and unable to say anything to his newfound ally.

He spent his free time studying in the library, mainly, avoiding Quidditch practices. Harry, although pleased for Snape to finally get his dream job, was unimpressed with the hands-off professor, Slughorn, and his fame-seeking ways. When Harry wasn't in the library he was bothering Snape for potions advice and help with difficult defense spells. Granted, the potions book he was lent gave him great hints and helped profusely, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. If he wasn't there he could be found in the astronomy tower with Luna and Trelawney practicing his divination skills. That or he was, grudgingly, participating in Quidditch practice.

Luna enjoyed his company in the astronomy tower when he stopped by to speak with her while Ginny took to following him around sometimes until Luna told her that she wouldn't find her husband for another six years. Harry had shrugged off the wails and continued with his tea leave reading.

Just before winter break Harry was sitting in the defense classroom talking with Severus about the ways to lose a werewolf if he was tracking you when Draco Malfoy burst in demanding help. For the first time in his life Harry heard Snape take points from Slytherin and give Draco detention for two days for interrupting a learning discussion. Harry mentioned it to Luna who smiled and gave him a dreamy look. When the other students left for Yule Harry became a near constant in Snape's classroom – turned – sitting – room. Severus would quiz him on potions ingredients and spells while Harry did his winter homework, sometimes asking questions about the assignments from Snape.

It was on a day like this that Harry ventured a deeper question. He'd been sitting in the window seat, overlooking the snow covered grounds of Hogwarts when the idea popped into his head. His mug of hot chocolate steaming on the coffee table before him, his book laying open and unread.

"Severus?" He asked, turning away from the freshly falling snow.

"Hm?" the preoccupied man muttered something under his breath about the ingredients.

"You like me, right?" He watched the man straighten near his cauldron and give him a 'duh' look.

"Yes, Harry, I figured that was obvious," the snide was not lost.

"In what way, though?" Harry cocked his head to the side. He liked Snape, a lot more then he used to. And he often found himself wondering what the man was thinking or doing when they were apart.

"Clarify," The man returned to his brewing.

"I mean, do you like me as a friend or," Harry chewed his bottom lip in worry, "Would you be my lover?" It still sounded incredibly blunt, but he couldn't really hedge the question. He'd been thinking for awhile about the similarities in their love lines and wondered if it was possible. Snape cast a stasis spell over the cauldron and turned to look at him. Harry found himself, again, wondering what was going on behind those dark orbs he admired so much. Wondered how Snape saw him, what he felt, what he thought about.

"Harry," The man brought a hand to his head and sighed, walking to a nearby chair and sitting down, "I – My opinions on this matter may do little to sway you. As I recall you gained your mother's stubbornness. But, it would be highly illegal for us to be lovers. Not to mention dangerous and strained."

"How so?" Harry furrowed his brows in thought. He knew about the risk. The idea that a sixteen year old could ever love a man in his thirties without being manipulated, how the public viewed such a thing. But, he couldn't stop wondering. And his thoughts over the space of the last month and a half had become darker and more sensual. Things he shouldn't think about at all.

"Harry, you're a public figure, a hero. If they every found out who your lover was it would be difficult. Such a relationship would have to be strong enough to withstand criticism like that. And I'm an ex-Death Eater. That would be politically insane, even for you." Snape's eyes were closed, and Harry couldn't help but notice how tired the Professor looked like that.

"You didn't answer my question though," Harry pointed out, "Do you love me?"

The man across from him visibly deflated. "I hoped you would give this question up," a deep sigh, "But, yes, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, he had hoped for the answer, but it was different than hearing it said. He stood softly, padding over to the chair and took Severus' hand from his forehead. He intertwined their fingers before meeting Snape's eyes and smiling widely.

"I'm glad we agree," He whispered.

"I hope you know what you're getting into, Harry. My life is dangerous,"

"So is mine, but, I'll enjoy it while it lasts." Harry rested his forehead on Snape's. His eyes closed.

Harry continued his spring semester just as he had his fall one. He began learning more from books he took out of the library on obscure magics and spells they were not taught in school. When he visited Severus now they sat closer to each other. Snape would kiss him, sometimes, when the portraits were empty and the school was quiet. Near the end of the year Snape informed him of the Death Eater's attack that would occur and was shocked when Harry simply shrugged it off.

"I've seen the Headmaster's death in the crystal ball for several weeks now. He's always falling." Harry explained. "What will be, will be. Just as we can't change the past we can't alter our destiny. That's what Luna says, at least," He blushed lightly.

"Shouldn't you try to stop it though?" Severus looked confused.

"Oh, I'll try, but when the day comes, take me with you?" Harry held out a hand to Snape, smiling when the teacher took it in his own and kissed it softly.

"Of course,"

Harry finished his school year with his head in the clouds, wondering if that was how Luna felt all the time. It was a nice place to be, he decided. When Dumbledore called him to his office, to show him the horcruxes, Harry smiled sadly and allowed himself to go along. He did as he was told until the locket was in Dumbledore's hands and they traveled back to the school. When they arrived and Harry was hidden, he watched sadly as Dumbledore was killed, by Snape's own hands. It was supposed to be Draco, but the vision he'd seen hadn't shown the curse coming from Draco's wand, so he accepted it as he would if it had been Draco.

When he could move he ran through the halls after Snape, his spare trunk with his necessities shrunk in his pocket. He toppled into the man with a quiet laugh outside the wards and wrinkled his nose when they apparated.

Harry had never been happier. He spent his days mewling over his divination work, looking for clues. When he saw what he needed he approached Snape with a difficult question.

"Severus," He began lightly, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Yes, Harry?" Severus was focused on his latest potion.

"I need you to take me with you this afternoon," He hesitated minutely.

"With me? This afternoon? Harry, I have to go to Voldemort's meeting, then." Severus looked up at him.

"Yes, I know. I'm going with you," Harry hoped his tone sounded decided or Severus would never let him go.

"Is that wise?"

"I've seen it, there's no other way," Harry smiled softly at him. Snape sighed heavily and turned back to his cauldron, shaking his head. But, Harry knew he'd won.

The manor was large. Finely polished marble that gleamed around them. Harry followed Severus closely under his invisibility cloak, standing unobtrusively behind the man's chair. The meeting started naturally, nothing out of order or strange. Until Voldemort asked for Snape's report.

"I have been barred from the Order due to the events leading up to Dumbledore's death," Snape replied smoothly, his voice and face giving nothing away. "However, I have a contact who wishes to help you infiltrate the Order. One they would never ban, or even suspect."

"Really?" Voldemort's eyes narrowed, knowing he couldn't visually intimidate Snape. "And who might this contact of yours be?"

"Me," Harry dropped the cloak into a puddle at his feet. Voldemort, startled, stepped back. Raising his wand to aim at Harry. "I am unarmed, my lord," Harry held both hands in front of him. "And I doubt you wish to destroy your own horcrux,"

"What do you want, Potter," The dark lord hissed viciously.

"I wished to inform you that I'm done with this war. I don't care if you win. I don't care what you do with the wizarding world. All I want is Severus." Harry placed his hand on the man's shoulder looking down to meet the eyes of his beloved.

"Done? You don't care? Are you saying you're forsaking the light side for a _man_?" Voldemort, although he'd deny it, shrieked.

"Yes," Harry slid his eyes to lock on Voldemort's. He felt the familiar pain of another mind invading his own searching for some sign of betrayal or hoax. Harry knew he'd find none. When the pain receded he continued. "I can help you defeat the order if that is the price of my freedom to live as I wish. If you would allow me to pull just one girl from the other side, my friend Luna Lovegood, then I will never betray you."

"And why should I believe you, Potter," The man snarled.

"Because I'll swear it on my magic. All I want is Luna's safety and Severus." He competed with Voldemort in a short staring match. Unsettling some of the Death Eaters in the room. Harry's hand never left Snape's shoulder.

"Fine," Voldemort hissed at last. His eyes moving to his next victim. The meeting continued without further upheaval. Harry never noticed the queasy looks of Draco Malfoy or the shock on his face. He stood by Severus until the meeting was over.

When they returned to Snape's home they shared a relaxing dinner and slept peacefully. Falling in to a familiar routine. Harry was sent to the Leaky Cauldron sporting superficial wounds to look as if he'd been kidnapped and tortured. He was the only agent under Voldemort without the Dark Mark. He met with Snape in secret once every two weeks, wishing to go home with him, but, knowing he couldn't. When the Order planned to move him to the Burrow for the rest of the summer Voldemort got his chance to destroy his resistance. Harry was swept into the waiting arms of his lover and kissed softly. Voldemort took Severus' mark away and glared at them with a warning.

"I never want to see you again," And with that the Dark Lord vanished from their sight and they were left alone.

A week later Harry sat curled up in Severus' bed, reading a book on curses and hexes that were banned from England. He chuckled at the idea of England banning a curse that turned the victim's skin blue and gave them gills, forcing them to live in water for over a month. When the door opened from the bathroom, Harry looked up to smile at his lover.

"It's my birthday, Severus," Harry set the book down on the nightstand.

"Hm, so it is," The man ran a towel through his washed hair.

"That means I'm seventeen, today." Harry added, hoping Severus would catch on. When the man didn't respond he huffed, "Severus, I'm legally an adult today."

That got the reaction Harry had been waiting for. His former teacher whirled on him with an arched brow. His lips slowly forming a cruel smirk.

"Really, now?" He purred, stalking up to the bed. Harry laughed delightedly at the sight and smiled.

"Sev," Harry began when Severus was standing next to the bed and leaning over him. "Make love to me?"

His answer was a kiss. A sweet kiss that turned demanding and hard until he was gasping for air. Harry, for the first time in his life, felt complete. Loved and happy. Accepted, at last. He enjoyed the warmth of Severus' body as they lay in the aftermath of their passion. Inhaling the scent of fire he loved so much.

"I love you, Sev," Harry whispered into the crook of his lover's neck.

"And I love you, Harry,"


	8. Need You HPDM

AN:2.6.13: Moving into Endworld Vault.

**Need You**

**AN:** I Liiiiiiiiive! Just tell me which mortal needs my protection, great ancestors, say the word and I'm – Oh, whoops, wrong story! Lol. Hi everyone! Long time no speak. Ugh. Sorry. I would have posted stuff earlier but my whole winter hit the fan. I'm still trying to piece crap back together. But, I heard 'Need You Now' on the radio today and got this sappy idea in my head. So enjoy the fruit of my random labor. I'm trying to work on my other stories but, it's slow going.

_Enjoy!_

**Warning: **I own NOTHING!

_'I wonder if I ever cross your mind,_

_For me it happens all the time'_

Lady Antebellum

Harry lay in his bed. Hands curled into his thick comforter. Blue and bronze curtains drawn until his world was nothing but him. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes looking beyond the stone work and gazing into distant memories. His eyes fluttered close when they began. It had started out so slow. A whisper in a crowd. They barely knew each other. Separated by blood, house and classes. They shared one class, though. Potions. He wasn't supposed to be noticed. The others avoided him. The quiet, brilliant boy-who-lived. They were supposed to partner up, but he wouldn't be picked. He didn't have friends like the others.

"_Mind if I work here?_" The voice, dignified and aristocratic with a hint of trepidation.

"_Do whatever you wish,_" Harry muttered, refusing to look at the boy.

He never left the table after that day. And Harry wasn't alone after that. The dove grey eyes that met his without demands or preconceptions. Reassuring smile when he withdrew from conversation. They became wary acquaintances. Sometimes Harry would be found by the lake with his study work. Soaking in the day and the knowledge. He would join him sometimes. And they would talk about little things.

"_Harry, will you help me with some of my homework?_" He asked hesitantly.

"_Sure, what do you need?_" He didn't mind helping him. The only one who really tried to know him.

They were found in the library during their free time. Whispering quietly to each other over books and paper. Huddled close to explain better. Harry felt his loneliness slip away after that. Even when they couldn't sit with each other, especially at meals, they shared a companionable smile every so often.

That summer had been cruel. Owls exchanging notes and small letters. Beatings when Hedwig was found missing. Chores until his body ached. And the night terrors keeping him from sleep. Bruises littering his body. Cuts digging deep into pale flesh. Scars healing slowly. Every bone in his body aching. On the train, they sat in near silence. Exchanging several summer stories, Harry only had a few that would pass inconspicuously. He listened to his excited chatter over his parent's and their manor. All the things he'd done between their semesters. Harry was comforted by the sound, imagining himself in that summer bliss.

The year was heavy. As were the next three. Every year something big happened to separate them. But after the second task in the tournament everything changed between them. The fear he felt when he'd disappeared that morning, only to find him at the bottom of the lake. So cold. He had nearly blacked out. His heart crushing inside his chest. World narrowed down to the single Slytherin who made his life bearable. He avoided him for almost a week until most of the castle emptied for the winter.

He was trapped in the library doing his transfiguration paper. His back pressed into the nearest bookshelf, eyes wide at the accusations.

"_You've been avoiding me for days! Are you angry with me? What did I do?_" All Harry could do was shake his head, shutting his eyes to keep back the prickle of tears.

"_What's wrong Harry?_" The voice so close to him.

Harry gripped the sheets of his comforter tighter, eyes opening as they had in that moment. Why? Why couldn't these memories just sink away? He doubted Draco thought of him as much as he did.

'_Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door,_

_Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before'_

Lady Antebellum

Draco rolled over for what seemed the hundredth time that evening, eyes going straight to the door for the common room. He curled his fingers into a fist, nails digging into the palm of his hand. He tried to refuse the ache in his chest. The wound that refused to heal. The place Harry belonged. His eyes closed, going back to memories he'd tried to block.

He couldn't help but notice the great Harry Potter like every other witch and wizard did. He was a legend. He hadn't expected the small, slightly built boy with messy locks of jet hair and the deepest eyes that sparkled under torch light. He didn't really know what he was expecting. But not this quiet, obscure youth. The teachers seemed confused when Harry was sorted into Ravenclaw. His table mates observing him with curiosity but refusing to approach the new experiment. He watched the boy eat in silence, plate barely touched by food. Eyes cast at the table. Ignorant, or just avoiding, the stares of their peers. Draco wanted to sneer, but not at Harry.

No one wanted to be seen with Harry Potter in their first potions class. Everyone taking partners they knew. Draco waved Crab and Goyle away, setting his books at the empty seat beside the Ravenclaw. Harry hadn't cared if he sat their or not. So he continued to do so. Trying to figure out who Harry was.

He would sometimes follow Harry to the lake, watching for awhile as the boy just sat and read. Then joining him, either with his own work or just to talk about nonsense. When he got stumped he asked Harry for help, and was tutored there after. It had happened almost a month after winter break. They huddled in the library at their usual table. Shoulders rubbing together when one moved to turn a page or point something out. He turned slightly, catching Harry's rare smile. The small tug of his lip that wouldn't normally register. The loneliness in that single expression, the acceptance of a future with no one. It seemed like the first time his heart ever really beat.

Those years melted almost seamlessly together, separated by long summers spent waiting for contact. Harry never seemed to talk about his life away from Hogwarts. He said nothing about his home, his family, what happened during their time apart. He tried to accept it, to understand. But it was hard not to know what was happening. When the tournament started, Draco was surprised to hear Harry's name called. He worried over his friend quietly, trying not to let it show. Wondering how long he'd have to keep his feelings hidden. He had considered taking Harry to the Yule ball, asking him formally, but decided against it in the end. They went alone as friends and broke tradition. Sitting on the outskirts talking quietly until they were allowed to leave.

He'd woken the next day with Harry's arm wrapped around his shoulder, soaked and shivering. Relieved that the cold water made it acceptable for his face to flush fully.

Draco sat up in bed reaching for his nightstand. A small bottle of Firewhiskey tucked secretly inside. He took a long sip, gasping as the sting in his throat slowly faded. The tingle reminding him of days at Hogsmead. Cold winters wrapped in scarves and coats. Tucked quietly in dark corners with drinks and books. Faces flushed, eyes bright. An excuse to clasp hands together.

"_Draco,_" Harry's eyes turned to him, losing him in the depths of their green expanse.

"_Huh?_"

"_Thank you,_" His head dipped to rest lightly against Draco's shoulder. Draco fought the urge to kiss those dark curls.

"_Always,_" He whispered instead.

Draco knocked the back of his head against the stone wall trying to settle his thoughts. It didn't help.

"_You've been avoiding me for days! Are you angry with me?What did I do?_" Draco tried not to let the desperation leek into his voice. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head as an answer. Draco could feel his heart on the verge of breaking. He stepped closer, face level with Harry's. Separated by six short inches.

"_What's wrong Harry?_" He pleaded. Harry's eyes snapped open to stare at him. Draco's hands moved on their own, cupping that frightened face. He didn't want to be the cause for that fear, that pain that sorrow. Every bad thing he saw in the depths of those emerald gems.

"_I – I like you,_" The answer was so soft, so quiet. Desperate for him to accept. To not abandon him. To stay and love him. Draco felt like time stopped with those three small words. His breath hitched slightly before he leaned forward. He pressed his lips gently against Harry's. Timid and careful. Not entirely certain this was what he meant. Hoping Harry wouldn't pull away. When he felt hands grip his arms, felt the slight added pressure of response, his heart hammered in his chest. Everything he wanted for years held in his hands.

Draco gulped more firewhiskey. Eyes burning, body shaking.

The door shut quietly, Draco looking up curiously. Only to smile at the thin figure moving towards him.

"_Evening,_" Draco murmured against the thick black curls he loved. Arms circled his waist in answer. A soft reply whispered against his chest. He drew the curtains closed until the world disappeared outside of them. He brought full lips up to his own, running his hand through the long hair Harry had grown out over the years. Harry yielded when his tongue begged entrance. He could never get enough of his Ravenclaw.

Draco tried again to bang the memories away. Every secret night. Every stolen touch. They refused to leave.

'_Guess I'd rather hurt then feel nothing at all_'

- Lady Antebellum

Harry shoved the covers off his bed. Sick of the sleepless nights since they were torn apart. Umbridge had caught them holding hands in class as they did their book work. She had shrieked and called them names until Draco and Harry were forced to sit on opposite sides of the room. Draco's fellow Slytherins refused to let them near each other. Blocking Harry out of Draco's sight. Finally he'd just given up.

Harry traced the trails of scars across his arms. Remembering how Draco had kissed them so tenderly the night he had uncovered them. How accepting he had been of the truth behind his summers and the decreasing owls.

He hissed quietly. Carving a new trail amongst the older ones. His fingers pressed deep against his arm. The pain only distracted him for moments before he was swallowed by the emptiness again. He let the blood drip and smear across his pajamas. The silence of his dorm was not helping him at all. He tossed off the dirty sleepwear and pulled on his muggle jeans and sweatshirt. Ignoring the blood that blossomed on the sleeve. He took his father's invisibility cloak grudgingly and left the room. Climbing silently down the stairs in his soft soled shoes. He ignored the portrait that harrumphed indignantly at the rude awakening and fled into the corridor. The cold night air a fresh relief against his skin. He didn't glance at the way he was practically running. He just went. Needing to be away from everyone and everything now. When he finally stopped to catch his breath he recognized the wall beside him. The Room of Requirements. He paced with his mind in a haze. One sentence ringing above all others.

_"I need a place to think,"_

The door appeared without fanfare. He entered with a relieved sigh.

'_I said I wouldn't call but,_

_I'm a little drunk and I need you now,_

_And I don't know how I could do without,_

_I just need you now,_'

Lady Antebellum

Draco capped the bottle with a slight growl. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He needed to think. To clear his head. Not sit drinking. He shoved the bottle back in his drawer. Shedding his sleepwear and donning his slacks and sweater. He rushed from the room. Not caring if his dorm mates woke or slept through his departure. His long stride ate the distance between the portrait hole and the stairs. He didn't wait for the man to yell at him but ran down the corridor. He drank in the cool breeze. Imagining the warmth he no longer had by his side. He pushed himself faster. He paused in front of the Room of Requirements, lungs burning slightly. He paced. His mind buzzing.

_"I need a place to think,"_

He barely stopped to notice the door. But barreled into the room. He eyed the all to familiar furniture. His heart lurching at the sofa covered in Burmese silks and rich cottons. The dark wood waxed into a perfect shine. Dove grey eyes roamed until he spotted Harry's favorite green velvet chair. His eyes caught on the huddled mass of muggle rags. Breath catching at the sight of rich dark hair spilling down a softly shuddering back. He found the strength to push his legs forward.

"Harry," The quiet whisper hung in the air for a moment. The figure stilled almost violently and turned to look at him.

"Draco?" The hoarse susurration shocked him. Puffy eyes peered at him through familiar heavy rimmed glassed, set crookedly on his nose. His heart lurched at the sight and he closed the space between them quickly. His arms pulling the boy into him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," He chanted under his breath like a spell. Arms wrapped around his neck pulling him into coarse sweater fabric.

"Draco," the cry was barely audible, cracking as he sucked in breath.

"Never again," Draco hissed against the soft skin of Harry's neck.

"Don't leave, don't leave me," Harry whimpered.

"I swear it," Draco murmured, kissing the trails left by the tears. One hand curling in dark coils, the other clutching Harry's thin waist. He let his lips brush against the Ravenclaw's. Kissing desperately at the frantic response he received.

"My Harry, my love," He whispered as they pulled apart for air. He picked Harry up and moved them to the large couch they were more familiar with. He lay his lover down gently and promised never to let him go. Proving his dedication with gentle hands and soft lips. Loving Harry's body so completely he'd never need anyone but Draco.

They never heard the battle fought outside their private room. Never thought of Dumbledore's death in the Astronomy tower. All that mattered in their world was Harry and Draco. And never letting go.


End file.
